Death's Hand
by The Policeman's Donut
Summary: 'We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love.'  Madame de Stael  A Shikatema angst one-shot, complete with Wolvine's comments.


Felt like trying my hand at some unhappinessess. No real world inspiration this time, though I did base it a little on Private Peaceful by Michael Morpurgo. Wolvy's all-time favourite author you know.

I do not own Naruto.

_YOU SPELT HIS NAME WRONG. But since you've taken pity on my and written something that though lovey-dovey has sadness, I forgive you. I do have a heart. You happy? C;_

_**If you don't like angsty sad stories, go read something else. It's not too bad but… Meh.**_

'_We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love.' Madame de Stael_

"This is the cell, sir."  
>"Thank you. You may leave now." He watched the young guard retreat with a bow. Amateur. If the prisoner had any motivation at all he could have escaped. Damn ninjas were hard to keep locked up. "You there. Why didn't you try to escape? You could have easily knocked that guard out."<br>"I'm guessing there is more than one guard around. Anyway, if I did get out I'd have been caught and killed straight away, and that's just plain troublesome." The guard was surprised. Not many talked back. He glanced at the man in the cell, looking at the way he slouched, crouched in the corner. The dampness didn't seem to bother him, and his eyes were closed. If he hadn't just talked, he might have thought the Shinobi was asleep.

"When is it?" The prisoner opened one eye to look at the Mist Nin. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with stubble on his face and a scar down his arm. _It's a good thing I didn't release myself. This guy would have snapped my neck as soon as I set foot outside._ The Mist were infamous for being merciless and efficient guards, even the regular citizens. He was surprised he was still alive now, being caught spying on them and all.

"Tomorrow morning."  
>"Can I request something?"<br>"Depends. What is it?"  
>"I'm guessing asking you to let me go is out of the question?" The man scowled. "Mm. It was worth a shot." He sighed, standing up, wiping the small smirk from his face as he did so. It was fine to show his emotions in the shadows, but if the man felt he was being ridiculed he doubted he'd let him do what he wanted. "Can I write a couple of letters back home?"<p>

The Mist Nin's nose twitched a show of irritation. This… This was Konoha's Genius?  
>"I suppose. Though you should know by the time it gets there it will be over."<br>"I know." Wordlessly, the man strode off, returning a few moments later with a wad of paper and a pen. He stuck both through the bars, and then frowned. He couldn't see anything suspicious about these activities, but apparently this ninja could surprise. He was good, he'd admit it. The only reason they'd caught the Chuunin was because they had three elite Jounin with them. He wondered for a moment why he was still at such a low rank, but then he remembered how much motivation the Konoha Nin had.

"She'll hate me for this you know."  
>"Huh?"<p>

"Who I'm writing to. She'll never forgive me. She'll call me everything she can think of." He watched the prisoner finish writing what seemed like a letter that only consisted of two sentences. He moved on to the next sheet of paper and began to write one that was not much longer.  
>"If you're trying to guilt me it's not working."<br>"I'm not trying to. I'm just making conversation."  
>"Just hurry up. I don't want to be here all day."<br>"Fine, fine…" A few minutes passed. The Mist Ninja was amazed. The prisoner wrote at a slow, unhurried pace, occasionally making a comment to him, pausing every few moments to think, chewing on the end of the pen, writing a series of short letters. He acted like he was in a study at home, not a cell in the murkiest parts of the Mist.

"I'm done."

A letter is pushed under the door of the Nara compound. A woman picks it up and her heart begins to race when she sees who it's from. She calls out to her husband, kicking his Shougi board over. He frowns and glares at her, but she simply shoves the letter in his face. They sit in the kitchen and read the letter, faces paling.  
>"He… He's…" He touches her arm gently, and then looks in the envelope. There's a piece of paper left in it. It's damp and torn, and he pulls it out gently so as not to break it. He looks at the barely legible writing on it. '<em>I'<em>_m going to see Asuma-Sensei. Don't expect me to be back for dinner._'  
>"He is."<p>

The blond Suna Kunoichi frowns at her reflection. She walks away from the mirror, annoyed, and down to the hall. She is about to leave when she sees a piece of paper with her name on it. She opens it and reads the letter, slowly growing more and more distressed. She rips it up, throwing the pieces around the room.  
>"That bastard! How dare he die on me! Of all the inconsiderate things he's ever done…" She fights back the tears that are threatening to escape her eyes, balling her fists. She's about to retreat to her room when she sees the other piece of damp paper. She picks it up and her eyes scan it. The tears prickling her eyeballs escape.<p>

_Troublesome Woman,_

_I love you. You think I'm a bastard, don't you?_

_Lazy Ass._

A week has passed. The body of the prisoner had been returned to his village. The funeral was taking place. Almost everyone went to pay respects. Only one person isn't, and that is the person who cared for him most. She chose not to attend, and is spending the day in his parent's house, remembering. Remembering him. She stands as she hears the door opening, and she goes down to see his parents, who look at her for a moment, then turn away. She appreciates this. They recognize she doesn't feel like talking to anyone. Especially not someone he was close to.

Since they are home, she guesses that the service is over. She sighs and walks out the door, feeling the rain drops settling on her skin. It doesn't rain much in Suna, so this is a sensation she usually associates with happiness and relief. She feels neither of those things now.

Her feet guide her to the ex-prisoner's grave. She feels the tears welling in her eyes again but she swallows and refuses to let them escape. Even in death she shall not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead she smirks slightly.

"I'm sure you pissed them off before it happened. It's one of your talents." She looks behind her. He had been buried in front of his old sensei. They had both died performing their duties. "You idiotic sexist pig. Now who will I yell at to stop watching clouds and take me to the Hokage's office?"

She realizes that the next time she comes to Konoha a different escort will be waiting for her. No more familiar pineapple hair for her. No more intellectual arguments about nothing in particular. She'd miss him. She loved –no loves- him. She turns to leave, but not before she could get the last word. She always did.

"I hate you."

Weeeeell that didn't come out like I expected. But it was OK I suppose… For those of you who didn't get it (and I don't blame you as I didn't explain it very well) Shikamaru was spying, got caught and he was killed. Don't ask why I didn't use names. I have no idea. Oh, and I made him up just for the fic XD I don't have OCs, Wolvy's the RPer.

_I'll admit I much preferred fixing this to some of your other stuff. Though I do __a__ppreciate how hard it is to give emotion in a double narrative present tense.__ Man, now you made me scared you'll go die in some random place. If you do that I'll find a way to revive you just so I can kil__l you again. __Don't you feel loved Donut? __I'm the best cousin ever._


End file.
